The morning of debut opening night of ‘Mr and Mr' Blaine is sitting on the floor up against the wall where his bed used to be in his old bedroom of the condo. He's been there ever since Kurt had left him entwined in their sleep warm sheets much earlier that morning, kissing him goodbye softly on each stretch of bare skin he could find before heading off to tonight's venue for dress rehearsals and sound and lighting checks.

Blaine's plans are supposed to consist of him spending the morning at the condo, going over some last minute tuning details and trying to chill the hell out-in the words of Santana.

Ever since Kurt had told him what he wanted him to do Blaine has spent the past week like a bat out of hell. Kurt had even given him some time off to just sit and practice and re-familiarize himself with his old favourite lyrics and notes.

Kurt's knows he's nervous, but keeps reminding him that its good nerves, it's to be expected and to feed off of it and turn it into excitement and adrenaline.

Blaine gets it, he does. He nods and shakes his head and offers a half smile, accepts kisses and praise and encouragement. He knows how much it means to Kurt to let him help, to let him push him. And Blaine wants it, this opportunity, still, after all this time. Doesn't he? 

Does he still want the roar of the crowd singing back his own lyrics to him, the shows and the media and the touring? The touring. Does he want to fly around the country for months at a time, or even the world? What would Kurt do? What would he do without Kurt? Would Kurt go with him?      

Later Blaine has planned to join Kurt at the venue for a spot of lunch, maybes a quick make-out session to help with the nerves and then onwards to get prepped with the band.

Blaine had eventually decided that he wouldn't like to get up there alone tonight, even with a band of people he hadn't met before, he knows that he would still prefer the atmosphere of the band playing off each other, riffing and free styling.

It's what makes it, more fun and cosy and less daunting, just a bunch guys and gals with their instruments, having some fun, no matter where they are. 

Blaine genuinely enjoyed holding auditions, and the whole process. He relaxed in to the role of advisor so much, he could relate to these people, knew what they needed to hear in order to keep them encouraged. It reminded him of back in the day when he was young and fresh and hopeful, new to the city with only a dream and a twinkle in his eye. Blaine was very careful when auditioning and picking out from the talented individuals of New York who came to see him that day. It was important to him to thank everyone for their time and dedication, to remind them that if they didn't get a job or a part straight away, it only means that bigger and better things are waiting.

In the end he decided on a Chinese girl with a mean set of pipes who is in her last year of college to help him with back up vocals. A guy in his early thirties with long strawberry blonde hair and a goatee who Blaine remembers seeing around you tube a lot, infamous for pretty much making a very decent drum kit out of anything he comes across. A set of twins, both transfer students from Italy and both very skilled when it comes to woodwind and string instruments.

Blaine is playing the keyboard himself, he doesn't think he could just get up there and sing, he needs the reassurance of something under his fingers to keep him steady. Lastly after unearthing a skill kept quiet he's asked Sam if he'll help out on guitar. Ok he has pretty much bribed Sam to play guitar for him, but if he was going to have to do this, then he sure as hell wasn't going to do it alone.

Of course he wouldn't be alone, he isn't doing this alone, any of it. He's doing it with Kurt, for Kurt, and Kurt will be there watching him, at the side of the stage or down at the front, with his beautiful smile and mesmerizing eyes.

Although they've enjoyed jamming sessions together after hours- which has been awesome- Blaine knows no matter how many times he has tried, that Kurt won't be joining him up on that stage, not tonight.

Singing and performing-for and to the public- just isn't Kurt's thing anymore. But behind closed doors Blaine has made it very clear that his most favourite thing to do (aside from having Kurt naked and writhing against him) is sitting with him side by side at the piano, their fingers gliding together and their voices combining and melding together.

Right now Blaine is supposed to be going through some vocal warm ups, general breathing and voice training exercises, but he just can't seem to move his hands away from his face, where he's currently buried like a little mouse.

He shouldn't be nervous, he shouldn't be frightened, this is what he does, this is him. He knows how to do this, he can do this. Ok so it's been a while, but you'd think he'd be chomping at the bit, ready to get back out there and make a crowd roar.

Right?

Maybe it's because Kurt isn't here right now. He knows that it's a little unhealthy how dependant he is on Kurt these days, but really who can blame him. What can you expect when you spend pretty much 24/7 with someone. Someone who has taught you so much, who has given you a new want for life, a someone who you have hopelessly and irreversibly fallen in love with.

Honestly some would say that it may be the other way around, that Kurt is the one dependant on Blaine and to a large extent they would be correct. Maybe they both depend on each other as much as they balance each other out, that is also true.

Maybe Blaine should just stop over thinking this and get up off of the god damn floor.

He knows why Kurt isn't here right now, he knows why he can't be and Blaine completely understands. Of course he does, this is Kurt's job, this is the first time in a long while Kurt has publicized something so cause worthy and great, and Kurt has told him on many occasions that it's mostly down to him, because he has been Kurt's muse.

Blaine is honoured, honoured and humbled and touched down to his core, and wishes Kurt all the luck in the world today, and hopes that things run perfectly smoothly for him- he does.

He just wishes that his love was here too. He's only human after all.

He breathes deeply, exhales, inhales and then exhales again. Repeat. He runs his fingers, through his waiting to be washed hair, scratches his scalp, presses at his closed eyelids  

Finally after a few extra moments Blaine is just about to haul himself up off of his ass and try and do something productive when the door suddenly flies open, slamming against the rubber stopper and Santana storms into the room.

She looks around the room, her long dark hair clearly yet to be styled falling around her shoulders, with minimal natural looking but striking make-up on her face. Her hands are perched on hips, her features stone like, like a first grade teacher clearly not in the mood to play ‘who glued my chair?' She's wearing black fitted trousers, folded at the ankles- something that Blaine would wear. A white crisp oversized shirt is half tucked in and half hanging out over the waist of her trousers, and in one of her balled up fists, she's clutching onto a black silk untied bowtie.

Finally she sees him, sitting there in a heap on the floor. Their eyes lock onto each others and for a moment Blaine can see a flash of relief flooding through her as her eyes soften, and then she's like a whirlwind of fury.

“Oh my god, don't tell me that I'm here to babysit your ass. What are you doing?”

Blaine climbs to his feet, pulling out and away of Santana's reach when she tries to grab his arm. “I was just- I'm just-”

“You're just freaking out. That's what you're ‘just' doing.” She says, giving him a once over, clearly checking out his coffee stained t-shirt and questionable sweat pants.

“I- I am not- look you don't have to babysit me, why are you here? Get back to rehearsals.”

Santana's face softens a fraction, she takes Blaine's wrist and pulls him down to the bed to sit beside her.

Quietly she starts to speak. “I swear he hasn't said anything, he hasn't but I can just tell that he's thinking about you, worried about you. His mind is totally somewhere else, and it needs to be there with those models wearing his name. But it's not it's with you, here, and he won't admit it. So I thought I'd come back to check on you, he doesn't know I'm here and honestly I'm glad that I did.”

Kurt.

Blaine feels his throat tighten and wet heat fill at the corner of his eyes. Kurt is thinking about him too, Kurt wants to be with him too.

“Maybe I should come back with you then, you know be with him or something.”

Santana holds up a pointed finger.

“No what you need to do, is get your ass calm and clean and ready. Scrub up to the delectable standard that he needs to see right now, and when you're all under control, that's when you go and meet him. He can't see you like this. He needs to see the strong, determined ever so able guy who he hired, who he knew he could rely on, and have at his side, through thick and thin.”

They stare at each other. Santana is right, Blaine knows that she is, but it's obviously truth time and he needs to get this out, he needs to or will eat him up from inside out. The shame and the guilt churn in his gut, fluttering like butterflies. He swallows, takes a breath.

“He's-he's uh asking a lot of me you know Santana, it's a big ask, on top of everything else that comes with working for him, being with him.”

Santana looks a little perplexed. “What? He is doing this for you, he's giving you a kick start, this will launch you right off in to so many directions, after the publicity that this night will have-”

“But what if I don't want it?” Blaine bites his lip, unable to quite meet Santana's eyes.

“What? Don't want what? What are you talking about- I don't get-” Santana starts to shake her head, and pinch the bridge of her nose, clearly on the brink of frustration.

“What if I don't want it. You know, like IT, be that person anymore, that performer. What if that's just not me anymore.” Blaine's voice is quiet but steady.

Santana watches him quietly, her lips pursed. She turns inward with her knees bent up on the mattress, completely facing Blaine. “Have you told him this? Have you said all of this to Kurt?”

Her voice is low and empathetic, her eyes glowing with warm and subtle understanding. This is one of the things that Blaine loves about Santana, he loves how she can go from worlds biggest bitch to friend of the year in less than two minutes flat.

Blaine shakes his head, “No but I will. I'm not lying or hiding anything from him, I promise. It's just I don't want to let him down, he wanted so bad for me to do this, to help me and for me to do this with him and I just-”

“Hey,” Santana places a hand on his shoulder, “What is it? Come on, its truth time remember?” She smirks a little and Blaine can feel just a tiny but of weight lifting off of his shoulders.

Why has he bottled this up? Maybe it's taken all of this time until now to come to the right realization.

“He-he told me that it's ok to want different things, I remember so vividly him telling me that more than one thing at a time, more than one dream is ok,” He pauses and Santana nods. “Well it's just, I feel like- dreams change you know?”

Santana nods and says, “Blaine what exactly are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I don't think I want to perform anymore, not like how Kurt thinks I want to anyway, it's just not me anymore. I love music, love it, love playing and the feel of the keys under my fingers or a guitar in my hands, but just- just maybe not so upfront you know, not so…-”

“Public?” Santana offers.

Public is that the word? Maybe so. “Yeah, I guess.” Blaine takes a deep breath. “It pains me to see what Kurt goes through day to day just by living out his dreams and trying to please a million and one people. I don't want that for myself. I don't want to be in a position where I'm so vulnerable and easily able to become detached from myself and from Kurt.”

“Damn, this lifestyle has really rubbed off on you huh short stuff?” Santana snorts, like she's placating a small child, smiling when she tries to tickle his chin and Blaine bats her away. Blaine just shrugs and nods, clearly tormented.

“Let me ask you something though, you are doing this for you right? Not for Kurt, not because of how his life may have interfered with yours?”

Blaine worries his lip between his teeth. “I'm not going to lie, Kurt does have something to do with this. Of course he does, but not in a bad way. Kurt has opened my eyes, he's made me feel like I can breathe right, like I can breathe under water. Look at how he has turned his life around, I bet you guys back in high school never thought he'd be a hugely successful, talented entrepreneur right?”

Santana bows her head for a second in thought. “You're right I didn't. I thought he'd be something, the kid could sing us all to shame and I thought for sure that we'd see him lighting up the stage like that god awful Berry girl we used to know, but I didn't think he would be… this you know?”

Blaine nods, “But he's happy now yes? Even though his path has changed, even though it's different?”

Santana tilts her head to the side, smirking slightly, knowing where this is going. “He's happy now because of you. He feels like he can get on and go further with you by his side, you're like magic prince gay.” She winks.

“Well he's like my magic too San. And I want to change my path as well, I want to redirect my love for music to some place else, like he did, with fashion.”

“So you wanna become rich and famous and have your own musical empire? You want me to just clone you into Kurt or?” She smirks and pulls back as Blaine reaches forward to try and push her down playfully to the mattress. She holds her hands up in defeat, her face clearly saying ‘I'm kidding.'

“I'm not copying him Santana. I don't want the rich and fame, I don't, god knows that I can't even handle what I have to go through now just as Kurt's assistant. But I do still want to help and change people, through-through music you know. Like I could assist or even manage some kind of production or label or something.”

“You seem to have this all planned out. We should just call you Bono.” Santana teases but her eyes are soft and warm and her smile is friendly. She's genuinely impressed and happy for Blaine, proud of him for knowing and being brave enough to go after what he wants.

Blaine nods slowly, “I guess I do… now, but I didn't, not until I've just said it all out loud.”

Santana nods, and a comfortable silence falls over them. They can almost hear each other thinking.

“Will you do something?” Santana asks after s while, her voice is so soft and quiet, eyes gentle and sort of…pleading. Blaine nods, heading tilting to the side in question. Santana continues. “If not for me, then definitely for Kurt and especially for yourself, because I think you owe yourself this one last shot.”

Blaine grins. “You want me to still play tonight?”

“Yes I do, I think that you should-”

“Tana,” Blaine cuts her off, almost laughing. “Of course I'm going to still perform tonight. I was never not going to, I wouldn't do that to Kurt, not ever. Yes putting myself first every now and then is important, but Kurt will always be and will always remain my first priority. I just, I just needed to-”

“Get your shit together, I know. Calm down Romeo. We all know how much you love Lady Hummel.” Santana says, standing up and smirking.

“Yeah, something like that. I'll tell him after the show, when everything dies down. Maybe in a few days.” Blaine smiles, following her.

Santana heads towards the door calmly, smoothing down her mismatched outfit. She pauses in the door way and spins around. “So you know what you gotta do right, you're all set?”

Blaine breathes in, chest puffing out and nods. For the first time this week, he feels confident, he feels sure and almost like he's landing back on his feet after a busy, stressful few weeks.

Santana nods, satisfied. “Ok Mr I know what I Want-” Blaine rolls his eyes. “If this is going to be your first in a long time plus the last show in front of a crowd, you better go out with a bang huh? A big one.”

Blaine's grin is too infectious for Santana not to copy. It really does feel like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“Oh I plan to.” Santana giggles, waves and then leaves, the sounds of her heels echoing against the flooring in the distance.  

This- what he's about to do tonight- may not be Blaine's ultimate dream anymore but if there's anything he absolutely does know how to do and how to do it spectacularly well- it's putting on a show.

Especially for Kurt.

*

The spotlights are hot and bright, but not too much to take, the feeling sinks into Blaine's skin, melts into his pores as he lets the rush take over. Beads of sweat dribble down the sides of his head, from his forehead to temple.

His eyes crinkle at the corners so that he's almost squinting as he grins his way through the lyrics. He sways his hips and ass when he's not required to sit down at the keyboard stool. He taps his foot perfectly in rhythm to the beat of each song whenever he's seated, bobbing his head happily.

He curls his sweaty palms around the mic during the keyboard breaks when he can give his fingers a break, he presses his lips to the cool metal feel of the mic head as he sings each word with heart and soul and conviction.         

It all came back to him from the very moment he stepped onto the little platform, built especially for him and his band and their instruments. The sudden feel, the urge to perform and entice a raucous reception from his audience.

A couple of glances backwards to Sam behind him, with swept up spiky hair, a tight t-shirt and dark denim, lapping it up on the guitar- confirm the feeling of sheer, unadulterated fun. 

No matter what he had felt beforehand or how he feels about performing again after this night, Blaine knows that he'll never forget this night. This last night of lapping up the smiles and the cheers, blinking from the camera flashes and checking his earpiece when he can feel the base vibrate loudly through his very bones.

He doesn't regret his choice, or his words he said to Santana. No what he said and what he has decided are both heartfelt and the utmost truth, but he's glad that he still has tonight. This one last thrill.

And if that's not enough to send Blaine to his own personal version of cloud 9, there is also the look on Kurt's face as he watches every single movement that Blaine makes.

After ‘pulling his shit together' as Santana had so kindly put it, Blaine finally made it to the venue early afternoon and met up with Kurt, who looking nothing less than frantic and harassed and about one slip up away from calling the whole thing off.

How could Blaine have left him to deal with this alone tonight? Never.

They barely had time to interact, with Blaine being rigged up for tech and sound checks and Kurt being radioed backstage for a ‘situation'. But the little contact that they had managed to sneak from each other before the show was enough. A lingering stare, a longing kiss filled with hope and promise, a quick naughty grope behind the curtain.

Secretly Blaine was actually a little glad that they hadn't had time to talk, it all builds up to the suspense and the anticipation of what's to come later, and then later still back at home.    

Kurt had never taken his eyes off of Blaine from the moment he returned from the backstage dressing room and stepped on stage to the sound of generous and eager applause. Kurt had been watching from the opposite side of the stage that Blaine had entered from, but after taking one look at him he quickly moved behind the curtain, through the stage door and out front, where he took his prideful place front and center.

He needed every viewable angle of Blaine possible. And firmly standing in position whilst being jerked this way and that by other guests clearly enjoying the music- was his best option.

Santana grinded up against his other side, a cocktail glass in both hands, and –thankfully- changed into her own sinfully revealing ‘little black dress' and stilettos. Santana had rocked the show, to an epic proportion. She was Kurt's feature model as the only female of the group, wearing adjusted and accessorized garments from his men's range, to cause that little bit extra flare. Both boys were proud of her, very much so, and hopefully this event would lead her onwards and upwards.

Whatever came of the night Santana would always be just Santana, only doing what her suited her, as and when she pleased.   

Blaine's stage outfit was what they had both agreed on-one of Kurt's newest suits, designed and fitted perfectly and uniquely for him. A light weight material that would help with the heat, a dark shirt rolled to his elbows, unbuttoned at the collar and a pair of matching pants, showing a slither of ankle with gorgeous French canvas boat shoes.

Only Blaine had added his own little secret subtle touches. Starting with his hair, completely seemingly product free with his short curls springing sexily in every which way. The way he looked brushing it back from his forehead or scraping his fingers back and through with his eyes closed, whilst he sang his heart out was enough to send Kurt looking for a cold shower.

He hadn't shaven-at all that day, with a tantalizing scruff of dark fuzz lining his jaw and upper lip.

He had unbuttoned his shirt buttons almost down to his navel to form a perfectly shaped ‘V' like wedge, with a teasing patch of dark chest hair peeking out.

Kurt's eyes are deep, dark and intense. His gaze unwavering as his dilated pupils flick and flitter after Blaine around the stage. Kurt has seen the videos on the internet, but he had never seen this, this Blaine.

He's careful to show any overly expression emotion save for the one of pure pride and joy. Yes he and Blaine are official and out, and everybody here at this event should know that, but still, they still are fairly new and raw and Kurt is a professional, a professional who loves his boyfriend enough to show some respect and decency around strangers, strangers with cameras no less.

They were careful with the press release of the event, and who to send the invites out to, especially with Blaine's little episode with the press not long ago. Of course there would be pictures and videos popping up on all varieties of social media sites with in the next hour or even less, this was to be expected, and they weren't going to hide who they were, or their love for each other.

But it was important to Kurt that Blaine be respected tonight as his own person, that was his aim, his private goal, aside from the line and the money and the charity. He wanted Blaine to get the credibility he deserved, and not just seen as Kurt's other half.

They had even made separate official appearances for the press and the waiting crowd outside of the marquee, on a dazzling dove grey carpet flecked with gold and silver.

Kurt believed that their love was sacred, private and special and theirs. And their relationship both personal and professional deserved more than being shown to an array of cameras with zoomed in lenses. They already had to deal with that on a daily basis, they didn't want to add tonight to that list.

Especially on this night, this night was for the good of the cause, and they refused to take limelight away from it.

There is going to be more than likely more than one occasion in the future that they're caught in a passionate lip lock or a suggestive manner, but tonight wasn't going to be it.    

But damn, was Blaine making it hard for Kurt to not stake his claim.

*

Some time later, Blaine finishes his set and exits the stage to a wail of applause and cheers, cries for more and cat calls.

The house lights come up, indicating that its dinner time and all of the guests start filtering away from the stage and to their allocated tables. Waiters swarm the marquee with silver platters and iced buckets of champagne and soon the whole place is rearranged for the last part of the night, drinking and dancing.

Chatter and laughter and soft house music filters up into the air and can be heard from behind the runway turned stage, where the backstage staff are flying around folding away costumes and unpinning various garments.

Overall the whole night had been a complete success, there had already been talk of an annual occurrence and the night wasn't even over yet. Kurt's clothes and the models that worked them up and down the runway were the new talk of the town in a matter of moment after seeing them, thanks to high speed quality internet connections.

A lot of money and awareness had been raised, Kurt had yet again been given unique recognition and everything had gone swimmingly with next to no hiccups.    

Backstage in his small dressing room away from the hustle and bustle of the other models, Blaine slumps behind the closed door, eyes clenched shut, finally huffing out a sigh of relief, mixed with exhaustion, mixed with utter joy and delight.

He starts giggling, and rubs at his sweaty curls with one hand, undoing the rest of the buttons of his shirt with his other. “Something funny?”

Blaine's eyes fly open to see Kurt, leaning against his dressing table. Dressed impeccably in his third suit of the night, designed to match Blaine's last planned outfit of the evening. His cheeks are a little flushed and there's a glint in his eyes, like pools of aqua dotted with crystals, and his smile is so bright and beautiful that it almost hurts to look at.

Blaine stops laughing but can't wipe the grin from his face, as his eyes roam all over Kurt's body. He cant even think of what to say to him, his head so far off on another planet right now, currently riding a high. So he just continues to stand their grinning at him, his eyes shining with a deep need and hunger and ultimately just plain happiness.

“Let me help you with that.” Kurt says when it's clear Blaine isn't up to vocalising just yet, eyeing Blaine's hands working at his buttons. His voice is deep and husky, laced with something that makes Blaine's skin tingle. They both can't stop smiling.

Kurt steps towards him as Blaine pushes himself up and away from the door, they meet in the middle of the room, their chests brushing, thighs pressed together.

 Blaine rests his head in the crook of Kurt's neck, inhaling deeply as Kurt undoes the last few buttons of his shirt and slips the material from his shoulders, running his fingers over his arms and chest and stomach appreciatively as he pushes it off.

His hands come to the rest on Blaine's belt buckle and Blaine groans into his neck, mouthing lightly up and over his jaw line until he reaches his lips.

“You were amazing tonight.” Blaine whispers against Kurt's mouth, teasing little licks and slides and brushes in between words. Kurt moans and kisses back hard and eager.

“Are you kidding? Did you see yourself up there tonight? You were like a rock star!” Kurt can't help but smile into the next kiss, but as Blaine pulls back just slightly to look into his eyes he catches something else there. Something vaguely familiar and it fills him with an unexplainable sense of relief.

Blaine's stomach dips, as he thinks about his earlier conversation with Santana and the one still impending with Kurt.

“Hey, come back to me.” Kurt whispers, ducking to meet Blaine's gaze as he starts staring off unfocused into space. “It's ok, I know, and I get it, and I don't want you to think about it tonight ok. I just want you to know how proud I am of you that you went out there tonight and owned that stage.”

“B-but Kurt, what-” Blaine starts shaking his head, almost dizzy with confusion. Kurt smiles and stills him with a kiss. He keeps them close with his arms wrapped around Blaine's bare upper body, shimmering with the remnants of sweat. Blaine smells and looks glorious, pure rugged man, scented with cologne and clean sweat.

“It's ok I know.” He says quietly. Blaine feels himself pale.

“You-you know? Santana? She-”

“Santana hasn't had to say anything. I know you Blaine. I know you a lot better than you think. This has been eating you up inside and I wish you had have just come to me but-”

“I did it for you.” Blaine finishes, winding his arms up around Kurt's neck, kissing his jaw and Kurt leans down and kissed Blaine's forehead. The quiet intimacy between them is almost too much.

“I know you did. Thank you.” And Blaine can see the sincerity, the honesty and the gratefulness pooling deep in Kurt's clouded eyes.

They could say a thousand things to each other right now but they both know that they don't have to, this is enough, this is them.

“So what's next?” Blaine mouths against Kurt's cheek, whilst very slowly starting to rub himself up and down Kurt's thigh. He knows that they have a room full of guests and other things to attend to behind these walls.

That and the fact that Santana will predictably worm her way in here in any given moment, but he just can't stop this need, this deep urge and un-watered down love and bliss he's feeling right now.

“Next tonight? Next tomorrow? Next week?” Kurt rubs back, gasping deliciously.

“The next step, for me, for us?”

Kurt stills them and their eyes meet. Kurt's hold tightens almost fiercely, his gaze boring down into Blaine's that it almost leaves him both breathless and wanting to tear the remainder of his clothes off.

“Everything. Everything is next for us.”